Dragon Age Ficlets
by Talisman Casedine
Summary: Collected ficlets & drabbles from random prompts.  Sorted by date.   Apologies for the repost & email spammin'.
1. April 14th 2011

**The Viscount's Final Hours**

Marlowe writes haltingly, often pausing to think, the quill scratching across the surface of the paper.

_My son,_

_How I wish you were here. Yet at the same time, I do not wish you to see any of this. I do not wish my fate upon you; the one you suffered was enough._

_Even now, all I can think of are your bright blue eyes, and how you seemed to see everything around you so much more clearly than I ever did. I remember how you used to give poor Liza fits when you'd disappear out of the Keep; you terrified her, you know. She couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you._

_It is a mercy that she didn't live to see the last few weeks._

_Qunari warriors - karasten, I believe you called them - block my door. I hold no delusions that I will make it through this alive._

_How I wish you were here to guide me. My refusal to listen to you will be my lasting regret. I can only hope I will be able to apologize to you in the life beyond._

_My last thoughts will be of you, and your mother._

He closes his eyes, wondering what else to write. One of the warriors in his doorway turns. "You will come now."

Marlowe sets the quill down and rises.


	2. April 19th 2011

**There's Something I Should Tell You**

Hawke looks up at her balcony to see Anders standing there, hands behind his back, looking uncharacteristically nervous. She raises an eyebrow.

"What is it? What did you do?"

He fidgets, but says nothing.

She takes the steps two at a time and peers at him, hands on her hips. "No, seriously. What did you do? I can _tell_ you did something."

"I ... there's something I should tell you."

Hawke closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose, and sighs, trying to ignore the million unpleasant possibilities her mind suggests. "What?"

Anders brings his hands around to the front, revealing a tiny sleeping kitten missing half its ear. "I found her walking through Lowtown, and I couldn't just leave her, so I brought her here, and I know I'm just a roommate and should have asked but look at how cute she is, and -"

Hawke covers his mouth with her hand and smiles. "Awwwww. She's adorable. But you remember," she says mock-sternly, wagging a finger at him, "you're responsible for her food and water and everything."

Anders grins, a huge sunny smile. "Thank you!" He snuggles the kitten to his cheek and heads for his room.


	3. May 10th 2011

**Chocolate Pudding Fight / (Varric, Isabela, Others)**

Varric looked around the kitchen, eyebrow shooting toward his hairline. He tsk-tsked disapprovingly.

"Hawke, the king of Ferelden, Fenris, Isabela, and ... Anders' poor kitten are all covered in pudding. There's a story here, and I'm not leaving til I hear it." He paused. "And you might want to hurry, so you can get that cat cleaned up before Anders sics Justice on you."

"She sabotaged my recipe!"  
>"You tried to eat my pudding!"<br>"The champion stole mine!"  
>"He was going to put <em>cheese<em> in his, Varric! How gross is that?"  
>"There's nothing wrong with cheese!"<br>"There is when it's in chocolate pudding." A pause. "Your maaaaajesty."  
>"Then Fenris threw his at me-"<br>"I did _not_, I _told_ you I accidentally bumped it."  
>"Across the kitchen?"<br>"I ... don't know my own strength sometimes?"  
>"And-"<p>

"So here we are." Isabela waggled her eyebrows. "Shall we all go upstairs and ... remove it?" she asked, grinning. "I know some _excellent_ removal techniques."

Varric laughed. "I don't care _what_ you all do - although I'm not sure the king will make upstairs without passing out, given how much blood is rushing to his face - but you better get it off Blondie's cat."

"Spoilsport."

* * *

><p><strong>I Said I Was Sorry  (Varric, Fenris, Isabela)**

"Elf, are you ever going to talk to me again?"

Fenris hunches his shoulders even more - if that's possible - and continues walking.

"You're making me feel bad!"

No answer.

"I _said_ I was sorry!"

No answer.

"Hawke, will you _please_ tell your broody elf that I did not mean to catch him doing jazz hands in his front room, I certainly didn't mean to laugh, and I really did take it out of my next book, mostly out of fear of my life and limbs?"

There's an explosion of laughter from Isabela, and Fenris stalks away.

"Great, now he's _never_ going to forgive me."

* * *

><p><strong>Hit Me  (Sebastian, Merrill)**

Hawke, Varric, and Isabela were sitting in Hawke's garden, watching Sebastian try to teach Merrill to fight.

"I want you to hit me, as hard as you can."

"Sebastian!" Merrill looks scandalized. "I can't! That would be mean! Besides, I have magic. Why would I need to hit people?"

Isabela chuckled. "You're wasting your time, choir boy. Kitten doesn't have a mean bone in her body."

Varric nodded. "That's true. I think Daisy feels bad when she haggles with vendors."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "You guys, be nice. She hit Fenris the other day."

Isabela smothered a laugh. "Yes, but that was with her staff, when he startled her and she turned around too quickly."

Merrill narrowed her eyes, tried to look fierce, balled up her fist, and swung at Sebastian ... who promptly cried out in pain.

Hawke, Varric, and Isabela looked startled; Merrill looked like she was about to cry. "Are you okay? I'm _so_ sorry! I thought you were ready!"

"You hit me in the ear!"

"Maybe you should have had Andraste's face as earmuffs," Isabela giggled as Varric and Hawke burst into laughter.

* * *

><p><strong>Head of Kirkwall's Foreign Affairs  (Hawke, Sebastian)**

He makes a half-hearted attempt to push her away, grateful that the Hanged Man is loud and no one else can hear this conversation ... he hopes. "Hawke, that is not what they meant when they gave you that title."

"What's not to understand? You're foreign - well, kind of - and we should have an affair. Head of foreign affairs!"

Sebastian pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, willing himself not to smile. "How much have you had to drink? And I'm from Starkhaven; it's not that foreign."

"Psh." She ignores the first question. "You're not a Kirkwaller, and you know how they are here about that sort of thing."

"Hawke, no. Now I have to go pray because you - "

She grins. "Because I what?"

"Have given me bad thoughts."

"So go pray."

"I will." He pauses, readjusts how he's sitting. "In a minute." He blushes as she doubles over with laughter.

* * *

><p><strong>Where's My Cow?  (Aveline, Donnic)**

He brushed her long red hair off her forehead as he handed her the well-worn book. "As requested." He paused. "Yet again."

Aveline smiled and looked at her daughter, sitting patiently in bed. "This one?" she asked, holding it up.

"Cow!" Leandra cheered.

"I have to go -"

"Sit, Daddy," she commanded, patting the bed. "Cow!"

"You better sit, Donnic."

He grinned and perched on the edge of the bed as Aveline picked up the book and began to read.

_"Where's my cow? Is that my cow? It goes ..."_

* * *

><p><strong>Meredith's Secret Letters  (Orsino)**

"First Enchanter, another letter for you."

"From?" Orsino doesn't look up from the book he's reading.

"It's unmarked."

His head shoots up, and he promptly closes the book. "Thank you, Elsa." He takes it and opens it, recognizing at once the flourishy script of his apparent secret admirer. Even now, after five years, the idea still makes him smile. He leans back in his chair and reads it, whispering the words to himself, then putting the letter into an ornate box on his desk.

He looks at the closed door across the hallway, tries not to grin, and puts quill to paper to pen his response.

* * *

><p><strong>Every NightHymns / (Merrill)**

Every night, Merrill makes her way to the top deck to watch the stars, smell the sea breeze, and sing. She borrows tunes Sebastian had called hymns, and just adds her own words.

She sings a hymn of remembrance. For the halla. For her clan. For Marethari and the sacrifice she made. For Tamlen. For Fenris, and Sebastian, and Varric, wherever their paths have taken them. For Hawke and Anders, probably out there fomenting an uprising. For the time when she felt surrounded by friends.

She sings a hymn of thankfulness. For Isabela, who has been her truest friend. For Hawke, who gave her confidence. For Varric and his ball of twine, for Sebastian and his acceptance, for Aveline for not having her clapped in irons despite how many times she'd had to drag Merrill out of the gardens. And even for Anders and Fenris, who had always made her cry but also made her try not to charge in blindly, even though she never told them that.

She sings a hymn of hope. For a better tomorrow. For calm seas and sure progress. For her companions' safety. For the courage to be better than she had been yesterday.

Up in the rigging, unseen, Isabela listens and smiles.


	4. May 17th 2011

**Pancakes / (Sebastian, Hawke, Izzy)**

"Wow, it smells delicious in here. What are you making?"

Hawke flips the skillet upward. "Pancakes."

Sebastian grins. "That might be worth the penance for getting drunk at your house last night." He comes up behind her and hugs her. "Thanks for letting me sleep in the spare room."

The hug goes on just a bit too long, and Hawke steps away before she does something untoward. "Welcome," she mumbles. "Can you get the syrup?" She sets the pan back on the heat, turns, and walks right into him.

"Hawke ... I mean, Marian, I ... "

He's clearly losing the battle with his self-control, and Marian isn't going to do a thing to stop it. He leans in, she closes her eyes and -

"Hawke! Did you make pancakes? I could smell them out- ohhhh. Am I interrupting something?" Isabela sounds positively gleeful.

Sebastian flushes a deep red and all but runs for the pantry to get the syrup. Marian sighs and turns back to the stove, dumping the burned pancake into the trash. "So close. So, _so_ close."

* * *

><p><strong>A Visit From Death  (Hawke, DEATH)**

Hawke found herself watching the scene, which was an entirely new experience.

"What on - what's going on?"

I'M AFRAID YOU HAVE EXPIRED.

"_What_? But Anders said he wouldn't let that happen again!"

'AGAIN'?

Hawke sighed. "He's really not on his game lately." She paused. "But seriously, I'm dead?"

YOU'VE PASSED ON. YOU ARE NO MORE. YOU HAVE CEASED TO BE. YOU'VE EXPIRED, AND WILL EVENTUALLY GO TO MEET YOUR MAKER. YOU'RE A STIFF. BEREFT OF LIFE, YOU REST IN PEACE. KIND OF. IF YOU WEREN'T IN A CAVERN YOU'D BE PUSHING UP THE DAISIES. YOUR METABOLIC PROCESSES ARE NOW HISTORY. YOU'RE OFF THE TWIG. YOU'VE KICKED THE BUCKET, SHUFFLED OFF YOUR MORTAL COIL, RUN DOWN THE CURTAIN, AND JOINED THE CHOIR INVISIBLE. YOU ARE AN EX-HAWKE.

"... A simple 'yes' would have sufficed." She folded her arms and pouted.

ARE YOU READY?

She shook her head. "Nope, he'll rez me in a minute. Nice chatting with you," she said as Anders began to cast the complicated spell.

* * *

><p><strong>Aveline Arrests Hawke  (Aveline, Hawke, Izzy, Anders)**

Marian almost had the chest open when she was suddenly yanked away from behind.

"Hey!" she bellowed as she flailed around.

"Hawke, I'm not going to sit by and watch you rob this merchant. You are under arrest. You will accompany me back to the guard house, where you will wait until you're processed. Your friends are welcome to attempt to make bail, but given that you are a repeat offender, it is unlikely they have the funds to do so."

"Aveline," Marian muttered as she was marched away, "I'm never taking you anywhere ever again."

Isabela leaned toward Anders. "So, how are you going to break it to Hawke that this was all a prank? Because you know she's going to kill you."

"By letter. From another continent, preferably."

* * *

><p><strong>The Hat  (Hawke, Anders)**

"Ta-daaaaaa! I told you this hat was _amazing_."

Marian takes in the floppy brim, the obscenely huge bright blue feather (what kind of hellish bird did THAT come from?), the multi-colored paisley pattern, the rhinestones, the beading, and the fact that someone has tried to embroider "wizard" on it and failed, instead writing "wizzard". She knows she shouldn't say anything because it's going to hurt his feelings, but she really can't help herself.

"Anders. _Dude_. That is a terrible hat."

* * *

><p><strong>You Kiss Your Mother With That Mouth?  (Hawke, Fenris, Izzy)**

They were picking their way along a path cutting through the wilds on the Wounded Coast when Marian tripped over a rock. She stumbled forward, daggers flying out of her hands, and landed face first in a pile of sand.

Fenris extended a hand to help her up. "Are you okay?"

Marian slapped his hand away and cursed a blue streak as she stood up, angrily swiping sand off of her armor.

Isabela raised an eyebrow. "Wow, you even got some Qunari in there. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No, just yours," Marian retorted, leaving Isabela speechless as Varric & Fenris burst into laughter.

* * *

><p><strong>I Was Drowning &amp; You Were Dry Land  (Hawke, Anders)**

She stares at him. "You're back."

He stands there with blond hair askew, coat torn, soot on his face. "I ... want to help."

"You think you can fix this?" She waves her hand at the damage surrounding them.

"No. But I can help."

She looks away. "Why? Why _now_, after you caused this?"

"You."

"What?"

"I was in darkness, and you showed me a light. I was in torment, and you gave me solace. I was wandering, and you found me. I was drowning, and you were dry land. I deserved nothing, and you gave me everything."

She turns her back to him, but not before he sees the tears in her eyes and the small smile on her lips. "Fine. But if you break my heart again, I'm booting you into the harbor ... no matter how eloquent you are."


	5. June 7th 2011

**Population: AWESOME!**

Marian, Isabela, Aveline, and Merrill are sitting at a small table in the corner of the Hanged Man, watching the antics in the center of the room.

"Maybe we shouldn't have let them drink so much," Merrill ventures as Varric clambers onto a table, followed by Fenris, Donnic, Anders, Sebastian, and Alistair.

"How'd they manage to get Alistair involved? That guy's really relaxed since I saw him last," Isabela muses. "Although I am impressed that none of them spilled their alcohol."

Aveline shakes her head. "I can't believe Donnic is even going along with this."

Marian laughs. "Hush, you guys, Varric clearly wants to make an announcement."

Varric holds up his hands. "This table shall henceforth be known as Badassery!" He turns to the assorted group standing with him. "And what's the population?"

"Population AWESOME!" They all cheer, bang mugs together, spill ale everywhere, break into song.

"Oh please," Isabela laughs. "They'd be nothing without us."

Marian chuckles. "Looks like it's ladies' day on the Wounded Coast tomorrow, since they'll be in Suckville, population Hungover tomorrow."

* * *

><p><strong>F*ck You Very Much<strong>

"What do you mean, you're_ leaving_?" Hawke snapped as she snatched her pants and followed him out of the bedroom.

Fenris didn't turn, and started down the stairs. "I just ... "

"Just what? _What_? Just didn't realize what it entailed? Just didn't have enough fun? What?"

He finally turned. "I just can't deal with it right now, okay?" he shouted. "You don't understand."

She folded her arms. "Yeah? Well, fuck you very much, buddy. Oh wait, we better not, because oh _no_, we don't want everything going all weird, now do we?" She turned and started back up the stairs. "As far as I'm concerned, this never happened. So don't sit there and stare daggers at Sebastian the next time I touch his arm, or at Isabela the next time she hugs me. If you don't want it, don't get pissed if someone else does."

He stormed down the stairs and through the main room. She stood with arms folded until she heard the front door slam, then collapsed onto the top step, willing away tears.

* * *

><p><strong>Step 2: Something Amazing Happens<strong>

Merrill peeks over the wall and sees Fenris brooding in his garden. She drops down, opens the side gate, and pokes her head in.

"Lovely night, isn't it?"

He glares at her, but says nothing. She comes and sits in the grass next to his bench. "What's wrong?"

He shrugs.

"Isabela?"

"That's none of your concern."

"She likes you, you know."

He sneers.

"She does! I see how she looks at you."

"It doesn't matter; I wouldn't know what to do, anyway."

Merrill gestured to the small plot just beginning to show flowers. "It's like flowers. Step 1, you plant a seed. Step 2 ... something amazing happens!"

"Stop planting random flowers in my garden."

"I will. But you should talk to Isabela."

"Go away, Merrill."

She pats him on the knee. "Have a good night, Fenris."

She peeks over the wall again after leaving, and sees him deep in thought, sitting next to the flowers.

* * *

><p><strong>Sing me a Song, Choir Boy<strong>

Hawke smothers a grin as Sebastian's face reddens. Again. Isabela hasn't left him alone this entire trip.

"Just one song, Sebby."  
>"Don't CALL me that."<br>"Pleaaaaaase?"  
>"No."<br>"I'll be your best friend."  
>"No, thank you."<br>"I'll make Hawke kiss you."  
>"I can do that myself, thank you very much."<br>"Ooh, do it! I think she'd like it."  
>"No!"<br>"If you don't sing me a song, choir boy, I'm never going to leave you alone. I'll dog your steps. I'll wait outside the chantry. I'll make sure Varric puts you in our next novel. I'll-"  
>"Fine!"<p>

He clears his throat, and breaks into a rather jazzy rendition of "I Get a Kick Outta You", complete with a little softshoe dance move. He finishes, resumes his rather uptight stance, and folds his arms.

"Good enough?"  
>"Choir boy, you just gave me fantasies for a week."<br>"Uh-huh."  
>"I bet you gave Hawke some, too."<br>"Damn you, Isabela."  
>"Oh, you love it and you know it."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Life is pain. Anyone telling you different is selling something.<strong>

Hawke sat down on a crate, leaned back against the wall, and stared at the sky, heedless of the tears running down her face.

"I'm done. Forget it. I quit."

Isabela crouched beside her truest friend. "You can't quit. My arm will get tired stabbing all these people by myself."

Hawke didn't even smile. "It's too much, Isabela. He lied to me. Then he did -" she waved her hand in the general direction of the ruin of the chantry "- *that*, and then I had to kill him, and even what he said about dying pissed me off, and it hurts too much, and I quit. Why don't I get to be happy for once?"

Isabela shrugged. "Life is pain. Anyone telling you different is selling something. But in between, we claim happiness. Were you happy with your revolutionary?"

Hawke folded her arms and didn't answer.

"It doesn't matter if you answer or not; I know you were. If you weren't, you wouldn't hurt now. Pain can be a reminder of happiness; can't have one without the other." Isabela smiled and hugged the Champion. "You'll be happy again, I promise." She took Hawke's arm and pulled her to her feet. "Now up you go; we have to keep moving."

* * *

><p><strong>Please Don't Leave Me<strong>

Isabela looks up as she withdraws her daggers from the two raiders behind her, and sees Hawke collapse.

"No!" she cries, rushing across the sand and falling to her knees. "Don't you dare, Hawke. Don't you_ dare_."

Hawke opens one eye, both hands pressed against a gaping wound in her side. "Don't what?"

Isabela's expression wavers between anger, exasperation, and fear as she leans over to kiss Hawke's forehead. "Please don't leave me," she whispers.

Hawke smiles weakly. "It's okay," she mumbles. "We brought Anders this time. Besides, if I didn't let you be the one to leave, you'd kick my ass."

Isabela turns. "Anders, move your feathers! Hawke's down!" She turns back and grins. "You're right, I would. Now shut up; you can be sarcastic later, when you're not giving me gray hair."

* * *

><p><strong>The Adventures of Feathers the Griffon<strong>

"Mommy, where's cow?"

"Leandra, we're reading something new tonight. Your father brought it home."

The three year old folds her arms and glares at Donnic. "Daddy. Cow."

Donnic smiles and shakes his head. "New book, honey."

Leandra flops onto her bed and pouts.

Aveline sits down, opens the book, and shows Leandra the title page. "See, it's about Feathers. He's a ... speed griffon." She pauses and looks at Donnic. "Where, exactly, did you get this?"

Donnic shrugs. "Corff handed it to me while I was at the market today. I felt bad telling him no. And it could be good!"

Aveline sighs. "You're lucky I love you, my husband." She turns to the first page. "Feathers was a griffon. But he wasn't just any griffon - he was the fastest griffon in his roost ... "

* * *

><p><strong>And there you were, completely naked<strong>

Hawke brings a couple more pitchers to the table.

"Tell us a new story, Hawke," Varric grins. "Come on, you have to have one about Chantry Boy here."

Sebastian shakes his head. "Unlikely. Hawke and I-"

"Actually, I DO have one about Sebastian!" Hawke grins drunkenly as a look of horror flashes across Sebastian's face. "So, you remember that time that we were supposed to hit up that cave on the Wounded Coast, and you wanted to go, but you were running late, and I met you outside your room?"

Sebastian looks confused. "Uhh ... yes?"

"Well, see, I got there a little earlier than you thought, and I opened the door to see what the hell you were doing. And there you were, completely naked, shakin' that thang all over your room." Hawke pauses as everyone else at the table bursts into laughter. "Seriously, I have a towel if you need one, no need to air dry." She leers at him. "Not that watching you shake it around your room wasn't extremely appealing. Anyway, so I just closed the door quietly, waited a couple of minutes, then knocked." She grins triumphantly. "Bet you didn't know about THAT."

Varric stops scribbling and looks up. "Hawke, you're my new hero. I'm putting you on my tab tonight, just for that."

* * *

><p><strong>lyrium and ... lyrium and ... (A DA2SuperTroopers crossover, IDEK.)**

Hawke and Fenris eyed the miscreants they'd caught.

"Now then, what were you doing down in these caves?" Fenris asked.

"We were just ... going to the Wounded Coast for some ... sunlight and swimming, sir."

Hawke shook his head. "Wounded Coast, huh? Almost made it."

Fenris produced a pouch. "What's this?"

Another smuggler spoke up. "Ohhh ... that's not ours."

Hawke smiled. "Now, I'm gonna ask you again. Tell us what you were smuggling." Next to him, Fenris raised an eyebrow.

The smuggler sighed. "... lyrium," he mumbled.

Fenris held up a pack. "Lyrium and ... ?"

Hawke chimed in. "Lyrium and ... ?"

When it was apparent that neither smuggler was going to answer, Fenris produced slaver bills of sale. "Lyrium, and human slaves." The smugglers hung their heads as Fenris smiled. "And we're gonna have to teach you boys a lesson."

* * *

><p><strong>This? This is why I hate the Templars<strong>

They're standing in the sewers leading to the Gallows, armor-clad bodies strewn around them. Anders is breathing heavily, Fenris is wiping at a spot on his armor, and Hawke's wiping blood off her daggers.

Isabela hears a sound, looks up, and sighs, which catches everyone else's attention.

"Seriously, where do they _come_ from?" Hawke asks exasperatedly, looking in the same direction as Isabela.

Isabela turns to Anders. "This? This is why _I_ hate the templars. You think you got all the ones attacking you, and bam, more fall from the sky." She pauses. "Or in this case, the sewer roof. Maker, who designed this nonsensical city?"


	6. June 14th 2011

**Funeral**

It was held in a quiet grove, far from roads and towns and people, near the sea.

Anders - although by now it was mostly Vengeance - stood near the simple wooden coffin and watched Hawke's companions gather in the early morning mist. He cleared his throat. As the assembled group quieted, a blue light flickered across his eyes. Anders took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and began.

"We have gathered from places flung far and wide to pay tribute to one of our most stalwart friends ... "

* * *

><p><strong>I Want to Go Home<strong>

Hawke threw down her sword and kicked at some rocks.

"We've been in this damn cave for two days. You all smell, I hate spiders, I'm sick of the undead, if I see one more revenant I'm going to punch it right in its face because why does it take them a year to just DIE ALREADY, the ground is moist, and let me tell you, I HATE the word moist, the passages are a total maze, I'm sick of finding scarves in boxes - seriously, what is it with Kirkwallers and freaking scarves in boxes? - my sword arm is tired, Anders has let me die twice - thanks, buddy - and with our luck, we'll probably run into a dragon. I want to go home!"

"Well ... you can't, Champion. Here's a straw; suck it up."

She glared at Fenris, picked up her sword, slammed it in her scabbard, and stormed off.

* * *

><p><strong>Never Hit a Man With a Closed Fist<strong>

In retrospect, Anders thought as he regained consciousness on the floor of the Hanged Man, he probably should have kept his mouth shut.

Hawke hadn't been in a jokey mood that night, but Anders hadn't noticed til it was too late, and one too many barbs about Isabela resulted in Hawke throwing her mug, balling her fist, and socking him in the face. He'd gone ass over teakettle off the bench, drenching himself in ale in the process, much to the amusement of the rest of the party.

"Oh, Hawke," Varric said. "You should never hit a man with a closed fist."

"You should use a dagger instead!" Isabela chimed in cheerfully.

Before Anders had passed out, he saw Hawke shake her head. "No way. This was much more hilarious."

* * *

><p><strong>Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue<strong>

Hawke is the first into the room. "Here, Aveline, this was my mother's veil." A pause. "She'd want you to wear it."

Aveline takes it, blinking away tears.

Isabela shows up next.

"I got you these," Isabela says, proffering a bouquet made of different blue flowers and tied together with a yellow ribbon. She grins. "I promise, I made sure none of the flowers had rude names."

Merrill comes running into the room. "I found it!" She produces a small box, opened to show a delicate necklace. "I wasn't sure I'd remembered to pack it, but I did, and it would look beautiful with your dress." Aveline nods, and Merrill fastens it for her.

Hawke looks around. "But we don't have a 'something new'!"

Isabela smirks. "Donnic's still new, isn't he?" She eyes Aveline. "Or did you two give in?"

Aveline blushes scarlet as everyone else laughs. "We can ... pretend he's new."

Isabela pats Aveline's arm and grins. "That's my girl."

* * *

><p><strong>Does it Trouble Your Mind the Way You Trouble Mine?<strong>

Anders looked up from his manifesto, studying Sirene's profile in the firelight.

"Are we doing the right thing?"

She turned to face him, fierce determination writ on her features. "Yes! How long do mages have to be oppressed before people wake up? Honestly, I'm tired of waiting for them, so WE will wake them up."

"But ... innocent people, Hawke. Does that trouble your mind ... well ..." Anders paused and fidgeted. "The way you trouble mine sometimes?"

She sulked. "What do you mean?"

"I just think that maybe you're too caught up in doing this a certain way, regardless of who it hurts. Vengeance agrees with you far too often."

Sirene looked incredulous. "YOU think I'M too strident about this?" As his face fell, she crossed the room and put her arms around him. "Sometimes, revolution is the only way," she said gently. "Better that than we be rounded up, herded into Circles, and left to live a faux life."

Anders sighed, then nodded. "I suppose I should finish this manifesto, then," he said as he picked up his quill.

* * *

><p><strong>Stuff With Bits in It<strong>

"Anders, why are you determined to teach me how to cook?"

"Because if I don't, your cooking will kill us all, and we're supposed to be on the same team."

"Nice. Thanks."

"Sorry, Hawke, but you're a menace around a campfire. Look, you can make stew, I swear. Everyone can make stew."

"Psh."

"It's stew! How hard can it be?" He scribbles a recipe and leaves her to it.

Three hours later, as Anders looks into a steaming bowl of ... stuff with bits in it, he quietly decides that he'll just take over the nights Hawke is on cooking detail.

* * *

><p><strong>Why Are Baby Things Always So Cute?<strong>

Hawke found Isabela at a back stall in Lowtown. "This is where you've been? What are you doing?

"Look at these socks, Hawke! They're so ... so ... "

"Not your size?"

"Cute! They're so cute!"

"... Isabela, are you trying to tell us something?"

"What? Maker, no! Like the world needs any more of me running around. Not to mention that whole parenting thing really gets in the way of doing whatever the hell you want." She paused. "But why are baby things always so cute?" She stomped her foot. "It's not fair!"

Hawke shrugged. "Well, if you're not going to -"

"Hawke! You and that broody elf should have one! Then I can coo over it, and buy cute little things - which you would tell NO ONE about, by the way - and wouldn't have to take it home! Hey, why are you walking away?"

* * *

><p><strong>If You're Going to do Something, Do It Properly<strong>

Hawke had played along with this game quite long enough. She turned on Sebastian when they were out on the Wounded Coast.

"Decide!" she snapped.

He looked stunned. "What?"

"Decide! I'm tired of you toying with my emotions, acting like you want to kiss me and then running away like a coward, and talking about it with other people, and just ... just ... if you're going to do something, do it properly! Don't half-ass it while you 'make up your mind'!"

"She means 'do HER'," Isabela chimed in helpfully.

"It's not a simple decision, Hawke, I ... "

"You've had years!" Hawke snapped. "How much more time do you need?"

He turned and stalked away back down the beach.

* * *

><p><strong>There's Always a Big Bad Wolf<strong>

"I don't understand," Leandra said as she worked against the rope binding her to the chair. "I thought you needed help!"

"I do," the soft-spoken mage replied as he went about his work, back turned to her. "Just not like you thought."

"But _why_?" she pleaded. "I never did anything to you! My children ... they need me!"

He turned to her, face contorted in a grotesque parody of a smile. "Did you tell your children fairy tales?"

She nodded.

"You know what the fairy tales don't tell you?" he asked as he came toward her. "There's _always_ a big bad wolf."

* * *

><p><strong>Run Along With Captain Jack<strong>

Hawke, Isabela, Donnic, and Aveline were sitting outside in the Hendyrs' back yard.

"Leandra, run along and play," Donnic said, pointing at Marian & Isabela's son, who was cheerfully stomping through the overgrown grass. Leandra shook her head and stayed next to her mother.

"Jack, come here," Marian called. He came running over.

"Mama," he said with a wounded look, "I'm not Jack, I'm CAPTAIN Jack." He pointed to the minature pirate hat Isabela had bought him in some port or another.

She grinned and bowed. "My apologies, Captain."

Aveline smiled at her daughter. "Why don't you run along with Captain Jack? You can use the training sword that Marian & Isabela got you." She eyed her friends. "Much earlier than age seven, I might add."

Leandra cheered and dashed into the house, followed by Jack.

* * *

><p><strong>Take Me to Bed or Lose Me Forever<strong>

_He'd been watching her out of the corner of his eye for the last three hours. He'd caught her every time she looked at him, every time she smiled at one of his jokes, every time she talked herself out of talking to him. He'd had enough, he decided, slamming his tankard down on the table._

_In the sudden silence, he stared at the pirate. "You! You take me to bed - right now - or you lose me forever."_

_Everybody turned to look at Isandre, who was blushing. She set her mug down, stood, and stalked over to him. "Fine!" she snapped, hauling him to his feet and dragging him toward the stairs. "Let's go!"_

Isabela looked up from the page and glared at Varric. "Really now? The elf confronts ME? And since when am I some shy little flower?"

Varric shrugged. "I liked the line better coming from him. Plus, then I can tell him I didn't put him in the story verbatim," he said, grinning.

* * *

><p><strong>Why Can't I Be You?<strong>

Sebastian lags behind the rest of the group, and Isabela drops back to talk to him.

"Aww, what's wrong, choir boy?"

"Not now, Isabela."

She follows his gaze. "Hawke's pretty amazing, huh?"

Sebastian narrows his eyes at her but says nothing.

Isabela holds up her hands. "You just seem distressed."

He thinks for a moment. "I just ... why can't I be you? You run around, you don't care what people think, and if you wanted to kiss Hawke, you would."

"Have. You should try it, it's quite enjoyable."

He sighs. "See? And I can't even be in the same room next to her without making an ass of myself."

Isabela waggles her fingers. "It's that whole church thing. Just make up your mind, and go from there. If you choose Andraste, your choice is made. If you choose Starkhaven, walk up to Hawke, kiss her face off, and tell her so. It's easy to be me; just stop complicating your own life." She pats him on the arm and jogs up to walk with Hawke.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm the Champion of Kirkwall, and This is My Favorite Stall in Hightown<strong>

Isabela grabbed Hawke's arm as they walked through Hightown's market. "Oh Hawke, look at that dagger!"

Hawke looked, and nearly passed out when he saw the price. "Isabela, did you see how expensive that is?"

"I'll take care of it." She turned to the stall owner. "As you can see, the Champion of Kirkwall is at your stall. Given that you wouldn't HAVE a stall if it wasn't for this fine manly specimen here, I'd think we could work out a discount of some sort, yes?"

The stall owner considered. "Fine. I'll give you a discount, if the Champion there will promote my stall. Business has been slow."

"Maybe it's the prices," Hawke muttered before Isabela elbowed him.

"Just do it," she hissed. "I came back to save your hide, you know."

Hawke smirked. "Nice, Isabela," he whispered before turning to the square and raising his voice. "Attention! I'm the Champion of Kirkwall, and this is my favorite stall in Hightown! Anyone who's anyone would clearly shop here!"

In the ensuing stampede of customers, Isabela swiped the dagger before Hawke caught her.


	7. June 21st 2011

**These People Are Here to Protect You**

"Mama?"

Her lips are pressed into a thin line. She gives the assorted templars such a glare that two of them actually take a step backward, then she drops to her knees and takes her son's shoulders.

"My heart, these people are here to protect you. They're ... they're soldiers. And they're going to take you to a place where you can be trained." She manages a smile. "So we don't have any more incidents like we had with the chicken coop."

He sniffles. "I said I was sorry for that, Mama. Please don't send me away."

"I know you did, and I know you are." Her voice wavers, and she takes a deep breath. "But I can't teach you, love. They can." She looks up as the templars step forward. "Now run in and say goodbye to your auntie."

She watches her golden-haired child dash into the house, and then turns on the templars. "If you hurt him," she says in a low, menacing tone, "I will find you. And I will kill you. You are to protect him, do you understand?"

They nod. She looks down as her only son comes back to her side, standing tall. "You remember, dearest - follow your heart, and do right."

"I will, Mama."

* * *

><p><strong>Yours<strong>

The only reason she hears the knock is because she's in the kitchen getting a late-night snack. The knock is of the "I hope you don't hear me knocking" variety, which only piques her interest. She tiptoes to the foyer and looks out a window, eyes widening when she sees who's on her doorstep.

She yanks the door open as he's turning to leave. "Yes?"

"Hawke, I ... " He shuffles his feet, looking rather out of sorts without all his shiny white armor on. (She's a little sorry he didn't wear it, because now she doesn't know how bedraggled her hair looks.)

"Yes?" She's refusing to give an inch after his scene on the beach, and waggles the plate of cake at him. "I have a snack to eat, you know."

"I just wanted to tell you that I've chosen."

"Oh? I thought you did that on the beach. You know, when you ran away from me."

He steps closer and oh-so-lightly kisses her bottom lip, taking the plate of cake and setting it aside. "I've been yours since the first time you smiled at me. I'm just not the sharpest arrow in the quiver and it took me awhile to realize it."

She takes his hand and leads him inside. "And what made you realize it?"

"Those red high-heeled screw me shoes you wore the other night."

Hawke grins. "Works every time."

* * *

><p><strong>You Were Supposed to Read the Instructions!<strong>

"Ow!" A pause. "Look, I know you gave up the playboy life awhile ago, and this is a re-introduction for you, but 'ow' is not really the right reaction, ever."

"Well, you were supposed to read the instructions!"

"The 'instructions' you gave me consist of Varric's new book, choir boy. I read the 'instructions'. The 'instructions' resulted in me saying 'ow'. How about you try to get in this position?"

"Um ... yeah, no."

"Okay, then. We're scrapping the instructions. Look, we haven't broken in the library yet, and Bodahn & Sandal are at the market." A grin. "There's a desk in there. Just a suggestion."

She ends up having to catch up to him as he races down the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>No Matter What the Storybooks Say<strong>

"You heard me. We have to get married."

"No, we most certainly do not." Hawke folded her arms and glared. "You may be a prince, but I am not required to do a single thing you say."

Varric looked from Hawke to Sebastian. "So ... I'm going to go get a drink at the bar. You kids try not to break any furniture over each other's heads."

"But, that's how things are done," Sebastian countered.

"In stupid fairy tales, maybe. Not in real life. And no matter what the storybooks say, getting married because of a baby is a stupid reason to get married, so until you have a good one, you can take your grimly offered proposal and go jump off of Sundermount."

* * *

><p><strong>That Would Be You<strong>

"You know, and I go over there all the time, and I don't mention the state of that house, and I like listening to his stories, and I at least try not to remark on how cute his butt looks in that armor of his too often, and I've told Anders that yes, he does indeed have to heal him, and none of it matters, because does he notice? Of course not!" Hawke throws his hands in the air.

"Who doesn't notice?" says a rather unmistakable voice as its owner comes around a corner.

"That would be you," Isabela gleefully informs Fenris.

Hawke just lowers his face into his hands. "Hey guys, I'll be right back, I'm going to go inside and die of embarrassment."

* * *

><p><strong>Come back to me! I made you a muffin!<strong>

"Hawke, I ... I can't do this." Fenris turned and strode out of the room.

Hawke hurriedly wrapped the sheet around herself and followed him out. "But you can't leave!"

"I can't stay. I just ... can't." He opened the front door.

She dashed into the kitchen and snagged the first thing she saw. "Come back to me! I made you a muffin! And I didn't even eat it, it's right here!"

He turned, eyebrow raised. "Oh Hawke. Please ... don't eat that muffin."

She smiled. "Because you want the muffin I made for you?"

"Because your cooking is lethal, and I do care for you." Fenris hurriedly shut the door behind him as Hawke threw the muffin at his head.

* * *

><p><strong>Wash Day<strong>

"Babe, look, you've been working very hard, and ... well, you need a bath and it's wash day."

"I have to finish this paragraph on my manifesto, then I will, I promise."

Hawke sat on the desk. "Look, now my incredibly attractive and shapely tush is in your way. Let's go."

"But-"

"You either give me those clothes, or I'm taking them by force."

Anders narrowed his eyes. "I'd like to see you try."

Five minutes later, as Hawke triumphantly straddled him while dangling his clothes in the air, he sighed. "Fine. You win. But I have one condition."

"Oh?"

He grinned a real grin, the kind she hadn't seen in what felt like ages. "You have to bathe with me."

Hawke smirked. "I think I can handle that. Wash day, and all."

* * *

><p><strong>Not if you were the last ...<strong>

"Not if you were the last tan, rum-soaked, muscle-bound, pouty-lipped sailor on earth." A pause and a grin. "I require at least two of you. Go fetch me another."

"Yes, Captain Isabela."


End file.
